


Caleb Brewster, Demon Hunter and Eternal Sap

by Chillmaster3000



Series: Portals, Demons, & Bastards [1]
Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Political Animals, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Eventual Triad, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Multi, Non-graphic labor scene, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8214907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillmaster3000/pseuds/Chillmaster3000
Summary: Caleb Brewster has been waiting 200 years for the loves of his life, Benjamin Tallmadge and Elizabeth Hammond Tallmadge, and he's starting to get impatient. To complicate things, demons seem to be coming out of every crevice and his friends at SHIELD are not as helpful as one would expect. Then he runs into Eliza's drug addict brother on a hunt. Never let it be said Caleb's life is boring.Mostly Turn, secondary Political Animals and Marvel, minor Leverage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has consumed me lately, so I wanted to put it out there. It's not my usual style, but I really enjoyed writing it. It's super AU for most fandoms involved and I have no excuse for it other than it's fun. If you want to ask questions, you can hit me up on here or on my tumblr at the same name.

2011

The demon howled, its tentacle-like limbs writhing in the red light it cast on the walls. 

“You dare disrespect me? I will feast on your entrails-”

“Feast on this.” Caleb tossed one of his THE grenades at the glowing demon. The handmade weapon explodes on contact, creating a small dimple in the reality of the demon’s existence. The demon screams again before imploding on itself. The reaction coats the room and the hunter in a reddish dust.

“Shit,” Caleb says, eyes mercifully closed. He spits out some dust without opening his eyes. “I hate it when they do that.” Caleb lifts the side of his black trenchcoat and opens a zippered pocket. Still not opening his eyes, he pulls out a handkerchief to wipe the dust off his face. There’s no point in wiping anything below his cheekbones, unfortunately, not with the beard he’s maintained for nearing two centuries now. But now he can open his eyes and get back to work, at least. 

Caleb looks at the room, which had been some poor old lady’s sitting room before the demon made itself at home, and sighs. It’s been turned topsy-turvy by the ungrateful guest, and now everything’s covered in a fine dust that would probably kill a normal human being if they touched it. Caleb puts the handkerchief away and reaches into another pocket. This pocket produces a small humidifier filled with holy water. Caleb sets it on a table and flips the switch to get it going. Then he heads for the door to tell the old lady not to go inside for the next three days.

*

When he gets home, Caleb has to sprinkle sage all over himself before he can step in the shower or put his clothes in the wash. The sage deactivates the demon dust as well as the holy water; it just depends on what you believe in. Caleb doesn’t believe in anything more than he believes in the power of a hot shower.

The shower can’t last long enough. There’s been a lot of demons and other annoying bastards around lately. Caleb barely has time to check in at his ‘real-life’ job before going on another hunt. He’s not sure if this recent spike in activity is related to an event he’s been waiting for since 1784, but he’s definitely not ruling the connection out. Caleb can’t answer that question in the shower and so he has to leave its beautiful warmth too soon.

Caleb walks into the bedroom of his small house stark naked. He’s lived alone long enough to not care about walking around in the nude, but he’s hunted monsters long enough to mind walking around unarmed.   
Caleb puts on some boxers and shoves his favorite knife in the waistband before heading to the kitchen to make some food. He eats quickly, a takeout meal from yesterday, and heads to bed. 

Of the two hundred years Caleb has spent on this Earth, there isn’t a whole lot he’s carried with him. There’s nothing that originally belonged to him: there’s a uniform of blue and gold that’s gone from mothballs to airtight cases; there’s a journal he’s had to have carefully repaired a few times when the binding started to give; a pencil sketch he might have filched from the desk of a President while that President was napping; and a photograph that should never have been in 1784 in the first place. The sketch and the photograph have been placed in plastic sleeves, ones with Velcro so they can’t slide out by accident, and tucked in a plain-looking black Bible that no one would ever think to steal. The Bible rests in his nightstand, unless he has to travel. Caleb always takes the Bible with him if he’s away for even a night. The journal and the uniform are in a vault specifically designed to keep them preserved, though both have already yellowed and frayed a bit. These are the things Caleb carries, to remind himself why he does what he does. What he waits for. 

Before he lays himself down to sleep, Caleb takes out the Bible. He opens it to look at the young man sketched in black and white, then to see the young woman at the center of the photograph. They are so young, he can’t help but think, so very young. Caleb doesn’t look a day over thirty-five, but he feels so old when he takes out the likenesses.

“I’m tired of waiting,” he says to the two bright faces. “I can barely remember your voices now. I want to see you again. I know it’s going to be soon, but that doesn’t make it easier.” The faces do not respond. 

They never do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are going to be non-sequential and sequential at the same time. There's a main arc, which starts in December 2011 and continues through to February 2012, but there will be flashbacks that take place in the 1780s, the exact year depending on the flashback. The chapter will always start with the year so that should help with any confusion, but feel free to comment if there's anything I can clear up.

1784

Caleb Brewster, when he was a young man, knew nothing about demons and magic. All he knew was he was truly and royally fucked.

.

“Going home to your wife, Brewster?” one of the other sailors calls as Caleb hurries off the boat.

“Nah, back to yours!” Caleb calls back with a wink. Some of his former crew mates start jeering at the first sailor, reminding him that Brewster’s too much of a free spirit to settle down. Caleb runs towards the other end of the harbor, where there should be a different boat about to cross the Long Island Sound. 

.

Setauket is still a small town, and there are still scars from its British occupation. It pangs Caleb to see them, especially the ones on the church. But there’s one place where there are no scars and no pangs. 

“Uncle Caleb!” Caleb grins widely as a little boy with dark curls goes running from the front door. Caleb bends down and opens his arms for the tiny speedster. The boy flies into Caleb’s arms, his face brushing Caleb’s beard. Caleb picks the boy up and spins him round.

“There’s my beautiful boy!” Caleb says. He hefts the boy back to get a better look at him. “You’ve grown again, Nathaniel! I told you to stop doing that while I’m gone!”

“It’s bit unreasonable to ask that when you’re gone for months at a time.” Caleb and Nathaniel both turn to see Nathaniel’s father walk up. Caleb’s grin deepens. 

“Oh, look who’s enjoying the sedentary life,” he says. “I think you’ve grown too, Ben, but only round the middle.” Ben Tallmadge, who is anything but round in the middle, smiles as he reaches Caleb.

“Some of us like to see our family more than a few times a year,” Ben replies. “Come here, you.” He pulls Caleb into an embrace and Caleb shuts his eyes for a moment to take it in.

“Daddy!” Nathaniel whines, a little squished between the two men.

“Sorry, Nat,” Ben says. He steps back. If Caleb didn’t love Nathaniel so much, he’d be annoyed that he cut things short. 

“Can’t squish our little bug, can we?” Caleb says, hefting the boy onto his hip. “Is your mother inside? I’ve got some things for her.”

“Ma went to Doc’s,” Nathaniel reports. Caleb looks at Ben.

“Everything all right?” he asks. Ben nods. 

“Eliza’s just fetching a few things before the cold sets in. You know how this one gets sick every year at first frost,” he says. The muscles around his mouth twitch, like he’s leaving something unsaid, and Caleb doesn’t like it. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to give Nathaniel his present first,” he says instead of pursuing the matter. Nathaniel squeaks in excitement.

“You spoil him,” Ben says with a smile. It’s a smile Caleb has already committed to memory, but he still studies it like it might be the last time he sees it. 

“That’s what godfathers do, Ben. We spoil our godsons to stay in their good favor,” Caleb says. “Let’s go inside, so I can put this bag down, and then you’ll get your present, eh, bug?”

.

Nathaniel adores the pull-horse Caleb brought, dragging it around the house as he toddles much more securely than the last time Caleb was there. Ben catches Caleb up on the latest gossip about town while they watch Nathaniel go. 

“So,” Caleb says as Nathaniel walks into the other room. “Eliza went to get stuff for Nat’s colds from Doc Abernathy?” He says it casually, but Ben winces.

“Yeah, that was part of it,” Ben admits. “She’s expecting again.” Caleb nods.

“I thought that might be it,” he says. “You know it’ll probably be fine this time.”

“It wasn’t fine last time,” Ben says, frustration leaking into his voice. “I don’t understand it. She was on horseback constantly with Nathaniel, running around and getting shot at, and everything was fine with him. She lives here and does nothing dangerous at all, but-”

“Ben, it just happens,” Caleb says. “I’ve talked to midwives all over the damn place, and they’ll tell you that at least half the times a girl gets knocked up, she doesn’t come out of it with a kid. It doesn’t always work out.”

“But why wouldn’t it work out when Eliza’s literally the safest she’s been since the war?” Ben says. Caleb shrugs.

“They don’t know, but it happens,” he says. “Then, the next go-round, the baby’s fine and dandy. One bad go doesn’t mean the rest are.”

“So it’s not me?” Ben asks. There’s guilt in his eyes and Caleb wants to smack himself for not seeing that sooner.

“Of course it’s not you, you big idiot. How the hell would it be you?” 

“Language, Caleb.” Both men look up to see Eliza in the doorway, her hazel eyes lit with amusement. Caleb can’t get enough of her eyes. “If you teach my son to swear before he can read, I’ll be very angry with you.”

“Shit, I better teach him how to read fast,” Caleb says, standing up to greet Eliza. She comes over and kisses him on the cheek, making his heart skip a beat.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Eliza says. “How long are you staying this time?”

“A few weeks,” Caleb says. “Brought you a few things to make up for the trouble-”

“You’re not any trouble, Caleb,” Ben interrupts. 

“I meant the trouble Nat’s gonna cause when I teach him all our old tricks,” Caleb replies with a wink to Eliza. “I’m going to teach all your kids to be troublemakers. You know that.”

“I had a funny feeling,” Eliza says. “I’m guessing Ben told you?”

“Yeah, and I have something for you…” Caleb goes over to his bag. He starts digging through and finds the bottle he’d gotten in a small port off the coast of Florida. “Here we are. This is from a midwife who’s never lost one baby her entire career. She swears by this shit. You drink a spoonful every day til you hit five months.” Eliza accepts the bottle and studies the contents, which are a bluish color.

“Caleb, are you sure that’s safe?” Ben asks, eyeing the bottle.

“Would I give your wife something that I hadn’t checked out to be safe?” Caleb replies. “I made sure it was safe.” 

“Thank you, Caleb,” Eliza says before Ben can argue. “I appreciate you thinking of me.” Caleb nods and she kisses his cheek again. 

“Ma! Ma! Look!” Nathaniel comes back with his pull-horse, heading right for his mother. 

“Did Uncle Caleb get you a present too, Nathaniel?” Eliza says, reaching down to pat his head. She leads him into the kitchen, where she sets the bottle down. Caleb has no idea if she’ll actually drink the stuff or not, but it would probably work if she did. He knows that. After all, the last bottle he’d gotten from the same woman had worked. 

“I can’t believe you picked up some foreign remedy for Eliza before you even knew she was pregnant,” Ben says in a hushed voice. Caleb shrugs. If Ben wanted the exact chain of events, the remedy had been shoved in his hands by the same lady who shoved the last bottle in his hands. He isn’t sure who the lady is, but she’d saved Eliza’s life with that last bottle.

“I’m always looking out for you three,” Caleb says instead. “Keeps me on my toes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where we get into our other fandoms. I explain SHIELD, some of the demon stuff, and some of Eliza's stuff as well.

2011

The lady who gave him those bottles is still kicking. She doesn’t look much different as Caleb walks through her house, which is tiny and filled with magical shit he doesn’t care to name. Her place in Bermuda back in 1784 had been pretty much the same too. The only difference here is the electric lights that keep him from running into stuff. 

“Jesus Christ,” Caleb mutters, narrowly avoiding a shelf full of jars that have creepy floaty contents. “Diomara, do you have to fulfill every stereotype about witches?”

“Do I look like a witch to you?” Diomara appears in the other room, clad in a tank top and hot pants. Caleb has to admit, most depictions of witches tend to wear more layers. And tend to be whiter and less sexually attractive to pretty much everyone. 

“You’re the witch I’ve known longest, so yeah,” Caleb says. Diomara growls and throws a sachet at him. He catches it before it can hit his face. “What’s this one do?” 

“It promotes antibodies and the immune system,” Diomara says, walking into the room. “Ben’s gonna need it.” 

“Ben?” Caleb repeats, heart skipping. “He’s coming? They’re coming?”

“Eventually,” Diomara says. “It’s getting closer, but I can’t tell you any more than that.” She turns back to the big black cauldron in the middle of the room. “We’ve got more pressing issues, anyway.”

“Speak for yourself. I’ve been waiting two hundred years for those three,” Caleb says, pocketing the sachet. 

“Yes, which is why you want the demonic forces far away when they finally do get here,” Diomara replies. Caleb scowls. She has a point.

“Fine. You got any idea why every demon and their mother seems to be coming out to play these days?” Caleb says. Diomara shakes her head. “Then why the hell bring it up?”

“Because it’s a problem, you asshole,” Diomara replies. “There’s a reason for this sudden increase, and we need to find it.”

“You’re the one with a witchy network, not me,” Caleb says. “I just got a hotline.”

“And a job with the biggest intelligence agency in all of history,” Diomara points out. She starts plucking ingredients off the shelves and Caleb wonders how the hell he’s gonna explain demons to Coulson. 

“Assuming I can convince SHIELD to help me out with the demon problem, and I’m not sure I can, what exactly are we gonna do?” Caleb says. “They’re more of the information-gathering, assassinating kind of people than the fighting a war kind.”

“At the moment,” Diomara says. She says that with the same absolute certainty she had when shoving those bottles at Caleb, and he’s not particularly keen on finding out exactly what she means by this one.

“Okay then,” Caleb says. “You got some sort of introductory, ‘Welcome to the World of Magic and Terrifying Monsters’ pamphlet?” Diomara sets her ingredients on the table beside the cauldron.

“I know someone who does,” she says. “Gimme a couple days and they’ll mail it to you.”

“I was joking,” Caleb says. “I didn’t get a pamphlet. What is this bullshit?”

“Pamphlets like this didn’t exist in 1784,” Diomara tells him. “Do you need more supplies?”

“Yeah, I need more sage and some more bound fur of a jackalope for my THE grenades-”

“Why do you have to give everything such ridiculous names?” Diomara interrupts, crossing her arms. “Total Hellspawn Eradicator is the worst name I’ve ever heard.”

“Would you prefer a Holy Hand Grenade?” Caleb replies. Diomara rolls her eyes.

“Get your stuff and get the fuck out of my house.”

*

Caleb’s ‘real-life’ job is a field operative for SHIELD. It has been since he accidentally saved Howard Stark’s ass in 1946 by taking a few Hydra bullets and exorcising a demon along the way. Since, he’s been assigned to what he refers to as the Weird Shit Division. Considering he’s been an active agent since 1946, Caleb’s pretty sure he counts as part of the weird shit. 

Caleb has an office in the Triskelion. It’s the basement. Technically, it’s the fourth sub-level of the basement, but it’s more fun to say he works in the basement. Caleb likes his basement. No one comes to bother him in the basement. Except Phil. But Phil’s a little shit.

Caleb comes into his basement after talking to Diomara to find Phil and his archer in his tool room. The archer is fiddling with the crossbow Caleb’s been modifying to shoot HPDs, Hide-Piercing Darts, one of which is currently in the crossbow. Caleb clears his throat so not to scare the archer into shooting his big toe off, but only Phil turns around. 

“Hello, Brewster,” he says. That gets the archer to put down the crossbow. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s nine in the fucking morning, Phil,” Caleb replies. “The day hasn’t even started.”

“That depends on when you woke up, but I take your point,” Phil says. “You haven’t been to work in a while.”

“I’ve been busy,” Caleb says. He doesn’t need this. He has demons coming out of every crevice to collect souls and close deals, and he needs to recruit some backup, not be held accountable for not coming into an office where he blows shit up for fun.

“Doing what?” Phil says blithely. Caleb looks him straight in the eye.

“Keeping demons from eating old ladies. And young ladies. And men of all ages.”

“Ah,” Phil says, like that’s a perfectly reasonable answer. “And how did that go?”

“Well, no one got eaten, so there’s that,” Caleb says. “You want to fight demons, Phil?”

“Not today, Brewster.” Phil turns to the archer. “How about you, Barton? You wanna fight demons?” The archer nods.

“I’ll fight demons.” 

“Okay then.” Phil turns back to Caleb. “You can have Barton for a while. He’s a good shot, good at improvising, good at ignoring orders, and good at pretending he lost his hearing aids.” 

“I like him already,” Caleb says. He looks at Barton. “I can’t let you use the crossbow until I finish fiddling with it, but I got a ton of other things you can use.”

“Awesome,” Barton says, smiling. 

*

Barton’s a quick learner. Caleb only has to tell him how to do a thing once and the man’s mastered it. He’s also a giant pain in the ass. Caleb appreciates that in a man, being that he can be a giant pain in the ass as well. However, when Barton is a pain in the ass, it’s usually because he ran off to do a thing without telling Caleb, which almost always means he’s about to do it in a way that will kill him. After about a month, Caleb feels reasonably sure that he can let Barton take some of his demon-hunts and the archer probably won’t die. 

After that same month, Caleb is also reasonably sure that Nick Fury is avoiding him. Caleb’s put in a half a dozen requests to meet with the Director, and all of them have been unanswered. There’s a clear connection between Barton’s sudden presence in his life and Fury’s continued absence. It pisses him off that Fury a) knows about the demon hunting, or at least knows Caleb does something other than blow shit up in his basement, and b) won’t talk to Caleb about what’s going on. This is the biggest amount of bullshit Caleb’s had from an employer since Washington dismissed Ben from being Head of Intelligence. There’s trouble brewing in D.C. and Fury has decided to stick his fingers in his ears, the fucking ponce. Caleb could just storm the man’s office, but he has more pressing issues. 

*

“What the fuck do you mean there’s a demon in the rehabilitation center?” Caleb sighs. He thought he was on the phone with his old friend (emphasis on old) but it turns out he’s on the phone with his old friend and his old friend’s partners.

“There’s a demon in the rehab center,” Eliot says slowly, like he’s trying not to smack his boyfriend, “and it’s using people’s desperation to trick them into making deals.”

“Demons make deals?” Parker asks. 

“Yeah, some do. Others just eat people,” Caleb says. “Do me a favor, Eliot, and don’t go after it yourself.”

“When you’re right here to take care of it for me? Why would I bother?” Eliot replies. Caleb rolls his eyes. 

“You are an ancient piece of shit, you know that?” he says. 

“He is right. You are an ancient POS sometimes,” Hardison says. Eliot starts defending himself while Parker giggles like the loon she is, and Caleb hangs up.

*

The rehabilitation center is called Calm Springs. It caters to the very wealthy and very powerful, meaning its secondary purpose is to keep prying eyes away from the clients. This makes it a little more difficult for Caleb to get in. Eliot’s boy Hardison made him a fake ID that says he’s an exterminator, which helps, but there’s still the question of getting held up by staff who haven’t seen any pests to warrant the presence of an exterminator.

Caleb goes as the place is winding down for the night. The tired receptionist and the security guards think nothing of his presence, and all they ask is that he not disturb their clients. Caleb has no plans to see any of their clients if he can help it.

Calm Springs is one of those places that could easily double for a horror movie. It’s freakishly clean, painted in barely different shades of pastels, and there’s way too many vague inspiration posters everywhere. No wonder the demon’s got such easy pickings here.

Caleb takes out his CSE meter as soon as he’s out of sight of the guards. He picks up a ton of Creepy Shit Energy, which only gets stronger as he gets further into the building. Caleb follows the meter to the center of the building.

Caleb stops in a sitting room. There’s a big window overlooking the courtyard, and it casts a pale light across the room. Caleb’s meter gives a whirring sound to accompany the rushing of the fountain outside and the hum of the air vents. The only Caleb can’t hear is someone else breathing, which is a slight problem, because someone is sitting in the armchair near the window. 

Caleb puts the meter in the pocket of his trenchcoat before crossing the room. He’s careful to make as little sound as possible with his movements, and nothing moves as he makes his way to the man in the chair. When he gets to the chair, Caleb finds the man is dead, his face contorted in fear. 

“Aw hell,” Caleb mutters. “Too late for you, friend. Sorry about that.” He bends down in front of the chair to get a better look. There’s no sign of injury, no blood or bruising, just the look of fear. Caleb’s sure the autopsy will say it was heart failure, probably brought on by drug use. He’s gotten too used to these deaths. 

“Oh my God,” someone says. Caleb turns around to see a young man in the same soft clothes as the dead man. Caleb stands up quickly. 

“He was dead when I got here,” he says. “I didn’t do it.”

“What happened to him?” The younger man steps closer and Caleb recognizes him. 

“Thomas Hammond?” Caleb says before he can stop himself. The other man nods. “Jesus, this is perfect. I take a job in one fucking rehab and it’s the one you’re in!”

“A job?” Thomas Hammond says. “What kind of job has you too late for saving this guy?” 

“You’re a good listener,” Caleb says. “There’s a demon somewhere in this building preying on the desperate, and I’m here to stop it. You wanna help?” Thomas Hammond looks at him for a second, decides he’s not crazy, and nods. Caleb sighs and waves him over.


	4. Chapter 4

1781

Caleb’s on his way back from the dead drop when he gets ambushed by British regulars. There’s two of them, but they had the element of surprise on him and they manage to drag him off the road. They tie his hands back and search his pockets. Caleb’s sure he’s about to die and expose the Culper ring to boot.

Then someone stabs the first Redcoat in the back as he stands up. The second whirls around to get a knife in his ribs. They both fall down and Caleb sees his rescuer. A short person in men’s clothing stands over the two bodies, their hazel eyes wide at the bloody mess at their feet.

“Wow,” they say, their voice high. Probably just a boy. “I didn’t expect it to be that easy.”

“Who the hell are you?” Caleb says. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but why the hell did you just rescue me?”

“Well,” the boy says, coming over. “They thought you were a Rebel spy. And I thought maybe you could lead me to the Rebels if I rescued you. Though, if you’re not a Rebel spy, I still didn’t think you should get roughed up like this.” He takes Caleb’s restraint and cuts through it. 

“Thank you,” Caleb says, standing up. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Thomas Hammond,” the boy says. Caleb knows it’s a lie right off the bat, but he sees the fear in the boy’s eyes and the blood on his hands, and he doesn’t say a word.

“All right, Tommy,” Caleb says. “I am heading for the Rebels, so you can tag along. But don’t ask me too many questions and don’t get in the way, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Thomas says, standing up straight.

“Don’t call me sir,” Caleb says, a spike of irritation. “It’s Caleb. Did you see my horse while you were sneaking your way over?”

“Yes, s- yes. It’s tied up next to their horses,” Thomas says. 

“Then go and get mine, and pick one for yourself,” Caleb says. Thomas blinks. “You can ride, can’t you?”

“Yeah.” 

“So go and get the horses,” Caleb says again. Thomas hurries over to the horses. Caleb sighs and follows, making careful note of the way Thomas moves. That’s no boy, he thinks to himself, because no one with a dick moves like that. 

.

Caleb brings Tommy (Thomas didn’t last the first hour. Caleb doesn’t do full names) back to camp. They ride right up to Ben, who doesn’t look pleased.

“Hello, Benny boy,” Caleb says. “Here you are.” He hands Ben the intelligence report from Culper. Ben puts it in his pocket without looking at it. 

“Who’s this?” he asks, eyeing Tommy.

“This is Tommy Hammond. He saved my arse from some regulars on the highway,” Caleb says. “Say hello, Tommy.”

“Hello, sir,” Tommy says, nodding at Ben. Tommy’s eyes are wide again, like he thinks Ben’s gonna shoot him or something. Ben nods back. 

“Thank you for your help,” he says tightly. “Are you with the Continental Army?”

“I’d like to be, sir,” Tommy says.

“Tommy, this is Major Ben Tallmadge. Don’t mind the stick up his arse, he’s a good man,” Caleb says. He dismounts and stands next to Ben with the reins. “Seriously, Ben, lighten up.”

“You bring a complete stranger into camp and expect me to lighten up?” Ben replies. 

“Ben, he’s like twelve years old,” Caleb says.

“I’m twenty-two,” Tommy says, getting off his own horse. 

“Shut it,” Caleb says. “He’s not a British spy, Ben. He killed two of their men and nearly threw up after.”

“I did not!” Tommy says, though he turns slightly green at the thought. Ben looks a little more convinced. 

“He’s your responsibility,” he says to Caleb.

“That means he comes on my courier missions,” Caleb points out. Ben scowls and walks off. Caleb turns back to Tommy.

“He’ll get over it,” he says. “Come on, let’s get these horses squared away.” He leads Tommy through the camp. Tommy is quiet and does as he’s told. This only lasts until he saves Caleb’s life again and he starts talking back. Caleb thinks it’s great, until Tommy and Ben gang up on him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we finally get some demon action! Woohoo!

The actual Thomas James Hammond is older and decidedly more masculine than his cross-dressing sister. He takes in the whole demon thing pretty well, though he might just be following Caleb and nodding when it seems appropriate. He does insist that his name is T.J., not Thomas, but Caleb has more important things to worry about.

The two men follow Caleb’s CSE meter down to the basement. T.J. carries the meter and Caleb carries his enchanted knife. There’s a THE in his pocket, but honestly that’s a bit louder than he’d prefer in a rehab center.

“So this is what you do,” T.J. says. “You hunt demons.”

“Yeah,” Caleb answers. “Very glamourous.”

“How did you know there was a demon here?” T.J. asks.

“Well, it turns out that three deaths in as many months isn’t par for the course in rehab center,” Caleb says.

“Yeah, but that could have been a crazy nurse or something,” T.J. says. “How did you know it was a demon?”

“A friend of mine came through on a visit and noticed some things,” Caleb says. “Mostly the cold spot in the sitting room and the smell of brimstone.”

“And what exactly does brimstone smell like?” T.J. says.

“A cross between a fart and death,” Caleb says. “Stop talking for a minute.” They come up to a door labelled ‘Maintenance.’ It’s always the fucking Maintenance Room. Caleb pushes T.J. back before kicking the door in. He points the gun as the door swings open to show…nothing.

“That was impressive,” T.J. says drily. 

“Shut up,” Caleb replies. There’s a pile of torn clothes in the corner, fastidiously clean but ripped into perfect shapes for a nest. This is where the demon hides out, so where is it- the temperature drops very suddenly. Shit.

“Don’t move,” Caleb says, voice soft. 

“Why not?” T.J. says at the same volume. 

“Because if you do, you’ll be very scared and therefore useless,” Caleb replies. “Just stay still.” He turns slowly to look past T.J. There is a large white beast behind T.J., its many limbs extending through the hallway like a posturing spider. The face, which has no eyes but a large gaping mouth with plenty of teeth, leans down to T.J.’s ear.

“T.J.,” it whispers in a voice Caleb hasn’t heard in centuries. T.J. freezes.

“Eliza?” he says. It’s the most pathetic thing Caleb’s ever heard. 

“That’s not Eliza,” Caleb says, as much as it pains him. “Come walk past me now.”

“T.J., I need you,” the demon says, making Eliza’s voice warble. “You have to help me. Come this way.”

“Don’t listen to it,” Caleb says. T.J.’s eyes are as wide as Caleb’s seen human eyes go without popping out. 

“She’s my little sister,” T.J. says.

“That is not your sister,” Caleb says. “I can see it, that’s not your sister.”

“You can save me,” the demon purrs. “You can bring me back. Come with me, T.J.” T.J. looks at Caleb, pleading for an answer.

“That thing doesn’t even know where your sister is, Tommy Boy,” Caleb urges. “Get your ass over here.” He holds out a hand. T.J. looks at Caleb and looks hard.

“Help me, big brother,” the demon says. T.J. swallows. He grabs Caleb’s hand. Caleb pulls T.J. past him with one hand and jabs the knife with the other. The knife sinks into the white bony cage of the demon’s chest, eliciting a splitting cry like peeling metal. There’s a spurt of inky purple blood all over Caleb and T.J. before the demon collapses in on itself. The dry bones clatter on the ground. 

“Is it over?” T.J. asks, voice thick with tears. Caleb turns to see him clutching the CSE like a security blanket, his back still to the demon’s remains. 

“It’s over, Tommy Boy. It’s over,” he says. “I’ll handle this from here. You can go upstairs and clean up. Go to sleep. Forget this.”

“No,” T.J. says. He faces Caleb fully, cheeks wet but expression resolute. “No, I wanna know why that thing knew what to say to me.” 

“It’s a demon. It feeds on fears, desires, and desperation,” Caleb says. “It…it can sense what you need to hear to be willing to sell your soul. And in your case, you need to hear Eliza ask you for help.”

“But why does it know that?” T.J. shouts. His voice echoes off the walls and Caleb puts his hands up.

“Do you want to be found down here with me, with a knife, over a pile of bones, in the middle of the night?” he hisses. “I will come back tomorrow during visiting hours and explain things, all right? Just go upstairs, don’t get caught, and clean up!” T.J.’s anger evaporates in the dark. He starts nodding. 

“All right,” he says. “All right.” Caleb takes the CSE meter out of T.J.’s hands, with as little force as he can manage.

“I’m gonna clean up,” Caleb says. “I will see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay.” T.J. walks away. He does not look at the pile of bones on the ground. Caleb waits until he’s gone to roll his head and blow a breath out his nose.

“Jesus Christ, Caleb. Eliza’s gonna be pissed when she finds out you took her brother on a demon hunt,” he says to himself. “What now, you big lummox?”

*

Caleb managed to clean up the bones and the blood without getting caught. He bundled up the bones in the rags from the nest, which he took with him when he left. Caleb smuggled it all out to Diomara’s place. He dumped it on her front porch and told her she could deal with it. She threatened to hex him but took the shit anyway. Caleb went home and decided not to think about anything until morning.

*

Caleb drags himself back to Calm Springs the next day, this time for visiting hours. Thomas James Hammond is waiting.

“So tell me about demons,” T.J. says. Caleb nods. 

“Okay, this is gonna take a while…”

*

It takes three visits and three days to finish explaining things to T.J. Caleb says several times that he shouldn’t be interested in this and Caleb shouldn’t even be here, but T.J. brushes that off. Caleb soon realizes that he’s the only one who visits T.J. 

*

“You know why I shouldn’t be here, Tommy Boy?” Caleb says to T.J. on his fourth visit.

“Why’s that, Beardman?” T.J. replies. They’re sitting in his room at the rehab, T.J. cross-legged on the bed and Caleb at the desk. Caleb swivels back and forth in the chair. His hands fiddle with the CSE meter, which has been quiet since he killed the demon. 

“Because in my day job,” Caleb says, “I’m in charge of the investigation of Eliza’s disappearance.” 

“Really?” T.J. sits up straighter. “Was she taken by a demon?”

“No,” Caleb scoffs. “She has not been taken by a demon.”

“Do you know what happened to her?” T.J. says. 

“Not exactly, but I got an idea,” Caleb says. “I can’t discuss that with you, of course, since it’s an open case, and my being friends with you isn’t technically allowed.”

“Then why are you still here?” T.J. asks. Caleb shrugs. 

“Dunno. Suppose I owe you, after that business downstairs,” he says. “Besides, Eliza wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t look out for you.”

“You say that like you know her,” T.J. says. 

“In a sense,” Caleb says, because he can’t exactly tell the truth. “Where do you want to go when they spring you from this place? I owe you dinner.”

“For what? Freaking out over my sister?” T.J. replies sourly. 

“For having my back that night,” Caleb says. “It took guts to follow a stranger after finding him standing next to a dead guy.” 

“Or maybe I’m just stupid,” T.J. says, lifting his head with a smile too brittle to be sincere. Caleb stops swiveling and turns to face T.J. full on.

“Hey, Tommy Boy, you are not stupid,” Caleb says. “And don’t you even thinking about trying that suicide shit again. Eliza’s coming back, and she is not gonna be happy you offed yourself in the meantime.”

“You don’t know that,” T.J. says.

“I know she’s coming back,” Caleb says firmly. “And I know she misses you.”

“You can’t know that,” T.J. says, less sure. 

“I do know that,” Caleb says. “Don’t underestimate your sister; she’s a badass.” He points the CSE meter as he says that, and something about the combination makes T.J. crack a real smile. 

“No one’s ever said that about her before,” T.J. says. “They should have though. She’s always been the toughest.”

“The little ones are continually underestimated,” Caleb says. 

“You’d know,” T.J. says, smile turning playful. 

“Are you calling me short, Tommy Boy?” Caleb asks. 

“You bet your ass, Beardman,” T.J. says. Caleb throws the meter at him and T.J. dives out of the way, still giggling.


	6. Chapter 6

1782

“He’s too tall,” Eliza says to Caleb. They’re sitting in the kitchen of the West Point house, watching Ben talk to the captains in the other room. Caleb’s got one of Eliza’s hands in his. This far into the pregnancy, her hands and her feet have decided to swell and ache in sympathy with the rest of her. Caleb rubs her fingers, trying to help. His mother’s ring slides under his touch. 

“What’s that, darling?” Caleb says. He’d been distracted, watching Ben’s profile in the firelight. It’s a pretty profile. 

“Ben’s too tall,” Eliza muses. Caleb looks at her finally, her own face lit up by the candle on the table. She’s got this mildly entertained look as she watches Ben. 

“Well, I won’t argue with that,” Caleb says. “Why are we saying this specifically?”

“He’s too tall for me to reach him,” Eliza says. “I can’t just-” She leans over and plants a kiss on Caleb’s cheek. He freezes. “-to him. He’s too tall and I can’t get on my toes without falling over.”

“Could always pull on his collar,” Caleb says absently, cheek burning. “That’s what I do.”

“Hmm. That’d make him blush and stutter,” Eliza says. “I should definitely do that.” Her fingers twine in Caleb’s and for a second he thinks she’s doing this on purpose. Then she pulls his hand to her belly, placing it on the surface where he can feel a definite thudding under her dress.

“The little bug likes that plan, eh?” Caleb says. “Embarrassing his dad? Or hers.” A part of him, a deep angry part of him, hates saying that. He’s not sure if it hates that Ben gets to be married to Eliza or that Eliza gets to be married to Ben. He tries not to think about it too hard. These are his friends, and they only got ‘married’ to keep Eliza’s honor intact. The kid’s not even Ben’s, for Christ’s sake. There’s nothing to be jealous of, Caleb tells himself. Not those long glances Ben and Eliza give each other, not the casual way they can put their hands on each other, not the noises that can reportedly be heard from their bedroom some nights. 

“Embarrassing Ben is fun,” Eliza agrees. It’s at that moment the meeting seems to end and Ben turns to look at them. Eliza starts giggling. Ben’s brow furrows and Caleb can’t help laughing at that. Ben gets more confused and a little annoyed. 

“What’s going on in here?” he says, reaching the table. He glances down at Caleb’s hand on Eliza’s side. Caleb pulls his hand back. 

“Kid’s kicking,” he says quickly. “I’m not as used to that as you, being away as much as I am.”

“You’re a courier, that’s your job,” Ben says. “Would you prefer I have you at the commissary so you can sit on your arse all day?”

“Watch your mouth, Tallboy, there’s a lady present,” Caleb says. Eliza hasn’t quite stopped giggling yet. She looks up at Ben, who’s trying to be stern, and he fucking melts. 

“I’ve heard worse, you fucking morons,” Eliza says. “Do you want to feel, Ben?”

“I think it’s Caleb’s turn,” Ben says. “As long as he’s behaving.”

“I’ve never misbehaved a day in my life,” Caleb protests. Ben raises his eyebrows at Caleb and Eliza laughs so hard she gets the hiccups. “Now look what you’ve done!”

. 

Caleb knew Eliza was tough. He’d taken her on plenty of missions that had turned dangerous and she’d handled herself pretty well for pregnant woman hiding both of those facts. Caleb had no doubt she’d take right back to it given the opportunity. Still, he isn’t quite prepared for her going into labor. 

Caleb actually doesn’t notice when the labor starts. He sees Eliza’s hand clench a time or two in the morning when he sees her, but he thinks little of it. Then, after Caleb’s gone out to check on things in the camps, one of the men stationed at the house comes looking for him.

“Brewster!” the man shouts. Caleb comes over, a flask in hand. 

“What is it, Jameson?” he asks.

“Major Tallmadge’s looking for you,” Jameson says, out of breath. “Says it’s urgent.” Caleb sighs and heads for the house, wondering what’s going on now. He hasn’t even been here a full day yet and they’re going to send him out again, he knows it. 

Caleb gets to the house and Ben’s in with Washington’s advance man. He cuts the conversation short, walking over to Caleb. 

“What’s going on?” Caleb says. Ben looks awfully serious now, and Caleb’s starting to get worried.

“Eliza thinks she might be in labor,” Ben says in a soft voice. Caleb blinks. “Could you stay with her for a while? I’m supposed to be waiting for Washington.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Caleb says. “Where is she?” 

“Upstairs. I sent her up with my watch,” Ben says. Caleb raises his brow. “She’ll explain. Just try to keep her calm. If it turns out she’s actually in labor, come get me.”

“What if Washington’s here?” Caleb says.

“Come get me anyway,” Ben says without hesitation. That’s the moment Caleb knows, truly knows, that Ben is in love with Eliza. And in that moment, Caleb’s heart breaks. He knew it was coming, he knew he couldn’t have Ben like that, but for someone to have that place in Ben’s heart just kills him, even if it is Eliza.

“All right. I’ll go up now,” 

“Thank you,” Ben says, heat in his voice. Caleb heads for the stairs. He tries to think about Eliza on the way, how Eliza’s scared, Eliza needs someone to be there-

“Motherfucker!” Eliza’s voice carries from her bedroom door, the second half of the curse more a hiss than the first. Caleb snaps out of his mild sulk and hurries over. Eliza’s leaning on the wall, one hand clenched in a fist against it and the other under her belly.

“Eliza!” Caleb runs into the room and takes her in his arms. “Jesus, you all right?”

“Yeah,” Eliza breathes. She leans against him instead of the wall. “Yeah, it’s passing.”

“That looked like labor to me,” Caleb says. “I mean, I’m no expert-”

“The pains aren’t close enough together to be sure,” Eliza interrupts. “Help me walk around, would you?” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Caleb says, feeling her hand shake under his. “Kid’s not gonna fall out or anything?” Eliza gives a wavery laugh.

“I wish it were that easy,” she says. “Walking helps the pain, or so I’ve heard.”

“Where’s the midwife?” Caleb asks. 

“On her way. Ben sent for her as soon as my back was turned,” Eliza says. She takes a step forward and Caleb moves with her. He puts his arm around her waist, trying to steady her. The other hand goes to the crown of her belly. 

“Okay, let’s get you moving, then,” Caleb says. He’s forgotten Ben for the moment, focused only on the fact that Eliza is about to shove a person out of her body and it seems like the most dangerous thing Caleb’s ever heard of. Eliza puts her hands on top of his. She breathes as deeply as she can as Caleb walks her through the room. Her hands still shake, but she’s doing her very damnedest to act calm. 

They walk around the room and down the hall. One of Ben’s lieutenants happens upon them on his way to his room. He stares at them in utter confusion until Eliza has another pain and she squeezes Caleb’s hand like a vice. Then the moron gets it. He hurries back downstairs and they keep going. 

The midwife and her assistant arrive after fifteen minutes of this. The midwife takes one look at them and nods.

“You keep at that until your water breaks or the pains get close enough,” she says. Eliza nods.

“What’s that mean, water breaking?” Caleb asks. 

“There’s a bunch of fluid for the baby to grow in, wrapped in a sack,” Eliza says. “When that sack breaks, the fluid comes out and it’s time to get the baby out.”

“Ah,” Caleb says. “Did not know that.”

“Why would you-” Eliza’s hands clench Caleb’s and she stops talking. He swears he can feel the muscle contracting under her skin. Then it passes and Eliza pulls the watch from her corset.

“Seven minutes,” she says. “We’re getting close.”

“You think this is the real deal?” Caleb says. 

“If it’s not, I’m gonna be pissed,” Eliza says. They start walking again. Two contractions later, Eliza stops Caleb in front of the bedroom door. 

“What is it?” he says. 

“Water broke,” she answers shortly. Eliza doesn’t seem to want to move, so Caleb gives her a gentle nudge. 

“Come on, then, let’s get you into the midwife,” he says. “You’ll want her delivering this kid, not me.” Eliza nods and they walk into the bedroom. 

The midwife takes Eliza from Caleb, already talking about how they’re going to do this. The assistant ushers Caleb back out the door. 

“No men in the delivery room,” she says.

“Major Tallmadge told me to go get him when it starts,” Caleb says. 

“No men in the delivery room!” the assistant repeats. Caleb is shoved out of the room and the door is shut in his face. It’s not as though he wanted to watch the miracle of birth, but he is mildly insulted. Caleb heads downstairs, where he finds Ben going over letters. Ben looks up as Caleb approaches.

“Is it happening?” he asks, dropping the letters on the desk next to him.

“Yeah, her water broke or something,” Caleb says. “The midwife says no men.”

“What?” Ben repeats as if Caleb just told him the sky was orange.

“Midwife and her assistant said there’s no men in the delivery room,” Caleb says again. Ben stares at him for a moment.

“Fuck that.” Ben runs past Caleb to get to the stairs. Caleb smirks.

“That’s my boy.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb's going to explain some of the time-travel stuff in this chapter. Hopefully this clears up some timeline things. As always, you can shoot me questions on here or on tumblr.

2012

T.J. is released from his rehab a few weeks after the demon incident. There has been no sign of Ben, Eliza, Nathaniel, or Nick Fury in this time, just a fuckton of demon activity. Caleb is not fucking amused.

He puts together a flowerpot full of protective herbs, things that promote well-being and ward off bad spirits, and paints some sigils onto the sides with invisible ink. Caleb brings the flowerpot with him to the Secretary of State’s house, where T.J. is staying for the foreseeable future. 

Caleb can’t imagine having a mother as powerful and controlling as Secretary Elaine Barrish. If he’d known Eliza’s parents were a President and a Secretary of State, he probably wouldn’t have sworn in front of her as much as he did. There’s several security cameras and a couple of guards as Caleb comes up the front walk, but nobody stops him on the way to the door. Thank God for his SHIELD clearance, Caleb thinks at the front door. He knocks quickly.

The door opens for Margaret Barrish, T.J. and Eliza’s grandmother. Caleb had actually seen her before, as a young woman performing in New Orleans, but he really doubts she remembers that. She’s not a young woman anymore. Margaret’s nearing eighty now, and she squints at him suspiciously.

“Who the hell are you?” 

“I’m Caleb Brewster. I’m a friend of T.J.’s,” Caleb says. 

“Are you a drug friend?” Margaret says in a mildly sarcastic tone. Caleb shakes his head.

“Sober as a vicar,” he says. 

“Then I guess I can let you in.” Margaret opens the door further and Caleb steps inside. The house is warm, both in temperature and in color, and incredibly styled. All Caleb can see is the multiple childproofing issues the place will have if Eliza ever brings Nathaniel here. 

“T.J.! Your friend is here!” Margaret shouts down a hallway. Caleb feels someone walk up behind him and turns to see the Secretary of State. 

“Hello, ma’am,” Caleb says. 

“Hello,” Barrish says. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” Caleb holds out a hand.

“Caleb Brewster. Agent of SHIELD and friend of T.J.’s,” he says. Barrish shakes his hand. 

“Ah, yes. You visited T.J. while he was away,” she says. “He said you were going to take him to dinner?”

“If that’s all right. I know he’s supposed to be supervised now that he’s out, but I promise I won’t let him out of my sight,” Caleb says. Barrish looks down at the flowerpot. 

“And what’s this?” 

“Caleb!” T.J. comes bounding out of the hallway over to Caleb. “Man, you came!”

“Of course I did,” Caleb says. “What are friends for?” T.J. smiles brightly. Then he sees the flowerpot. 

“Uh, bringing me plants?” he suggests. Caleb rolls his eyes.

“It’s a part of the recovery process, you knob. Focusing on keeping something else alive is good for you,” he says. “We got agrimony, cinquefoil, coriander, mullein, and valerian. Don’t try eating them. Just stick it in a window somewhere.”

“What, will this protect me from bad spirits?” T.J. asks, taking the pot. He’s not joking, and his family seems to know it. 

“If you believe in that kind of thing,” Caleb says. T.J. nods. 

“Awesome. I love it,” he says. “I’ll put it in my room. Come on, you can tell me how to take care of it.” He leads Caleb through the house to a small, clean room that looks like it could be back in the rehab center. T.J. puts the pot on his windowsill. 

“So, like it does protect from demons and stuff?” he asks.

“Yeah. But seriously, don’t eat it and for the love of God, don’t try smoking it,” Caleb says. “Some of them are toxic if ingested, and that spreads through the soil.”

“I wasn’t gonna try to smoke it! I’m clean now, geez.” T.J. rolls his eyes. “Thank you for this. It means a lot.”

“I do it for all my friends,” Caleb says casually. “Think your ma will let you come out to dinner?”

“Depends on how well your SHIELD agent thing holds up,” T.J. says. 

“Considering I am an actual SHIELD agent, it should hold up pretty well,” Caleb says. “There’s something I want to show you after. It’s got to do with your sister.”

“What is it?” T.J. asks. 

“I can’t tell you. I’ve got to show you,” Caleb says. “Dinner first, though. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

*

Caleb’s pretty sure Barrish had them followed to the restaurant, but he doesn’t particularly care. He and T.J. have a good time, T.J. loudly proclaiming the food is so much better ‘on the outside.’ It’s mildly entertaining to see him act like he’s just gotten out of prison. A month in rehab is hardly comparable to time in prison. Caleb would know.

After dinner, Caleb takes T.J. to a private bank. The bank’s almost as old as Caleb is, and its reputation is built on keeping art and artifacts safe for millionaires. Caleb is not a millionaire, but he is the bank’s longest held customer.

The attendant takes one look at Caleb and wrinkles his nose. Then Caleb gives his account number and the boy looks it up. The attendant suddenly goes pale and polite like Caleb walked in with a thousand-dollar suit. T.J. smothers a laugh as the attendant hurries to lead them to the vault.

“So what are we doing here?” T.J. asks after recovering. They’re still walking down to the vault, which is two floors below the reception area.

“I’m going to show you the key piece of evidence in the investigation,” Caleb says. 

“Shouldn’t that be in some kind of evidence locker? Not a fancy bank?”

“Do you have any idea how much evidence gets stolen from those lockers?” Caleb replies. T.J.’s brow furrows. “That’s what I thought. I happen to know some people who do that regularly, and I do not trust SHIELD as far as I can throw you.” Those people also break into banks, but that’s a much harder thing to do than steal from an evidence locker. The amount of people who can steal from this bank is exponentially smaller than the amount of people who can steal from an evidence locker at SHIELD.

“Then why do you work for them?” T.J. says. 

“Pays the bills,” Caleb answers. The attendant stops in front of the vault door. He types a combination on the keypad before stepping aside. Caleb enters his own combination and provides a fingerprint. The door opens slightly with a hiss.

“Will that be all, sir?” the attendant asks. 

“Yeah, we can show ourselves out,” Caleb says. The attendant nods and walks off. Caleb takes the door handle to pull it all the way open. It’s always heavier than he remembers, but he gets it open all the same. T.J. walks in and Caleb follows him. 

“Whoa,” T.J. says. The vault is kind of impressive, Caleb supposes. There’s glass cases designed to keep artifacts preserved taking up most of them room, with a small table at the back for examinations. Two of the walls have drawers that contain the usual shit- cash, jewels, other things that can be easily converted to capital. That’s not the most valuable part of the vault.

“Is this a Revolutionary War uniform?” T.J. asks, stopping at a case. It’s Ben’s uniform, Caleb sees, the blue not quite as bold and the gold not as bright as it used to be.

“Yeah. Major’s uniform,” Caleb says. “That’s not what you’re here to see.”

“Why do you have that?” T.J. says. He drags himself away from the case to follow Caleb further into the vault. 

“Sentimentality,” Caleb replies. He stops at the case with the journal. He slides the side of the case up and reaches in. The leather of the journal is cracked and looks ready to crumble, but Caleb’s had it fixed up so it won’t. He takes the journal over to the table in the back. T.J. walks behind him.

“Dude, that’s like the oldest book I’ve ever seen,” T.J. says. “That can’t be your evidence.”

“Oh, so you’re the expert now, huh?” Caleb says, setting the journal on the table. “You must have all kinds of experience in supernatural disappearances and criminal investigation.”

“Point take- wait, supernatural disappearances?” T.J. says. “Eliza’s disappearance was supernatural?”

“That’s what I’m trying to show you, Tommy Boy,” Caleb says. “Come look at this.” T.J. leans over Caleb’s shoulder as he carefully lifts the cover. There’s a name on the inside cover, one written in penmanship that’s decidedly not typical of the Revolutionary era. 

“Hammond,” T.J. reads. His eyes go to the first page of text, and he frowns. “That’s- that can’t be Eliza’s handwriting. It’s too old to be Eliza’s handwriting.”

“Yeah, and a demon spoke to you in her voice,” Caleb says. “You really want to talk about can’ts right now?”

“How old is this?” T.J. says, voice unsteady.

“Last entry is from 1784,” Caleb says. “The first is from 1781.”

“What happened?” T.J. asks. Caleb sighs.

“According to this, your sister was at the alumni party at Princeton when she decided to take a walk outside,” he says. “One minute, she’s on campus, the next she’s in the woods. When she gets out of the woods, it looks like she’s walked into a Revolutionary War reenactment. Cept it’s not a reenactment. It’s the real deal.”

“Holy shit,” T.J. breathes. “What did she do?” 

“She joined the Continental Army,” Caleb says. 

“No, for real, man.”

“She did, though,” Caleb says. “She dressed herself as a man and joined the Army.”

“That’s some Mulan shit right there,” T.J. says. “My baby sister is not the kind to join the Army, even during the Revolution.”

“Would you like to read it yourself?” Caleb says, holding up the journal. “It’s all in here, Tommy Boy.” T.J. eyes it for a minute before shaking his head.

“I trust you,” he says. “But what does this mean? You said it ended in 1784.”

“It does,” Caleb says. “In 1781, Eliza met Ben Tallmadge, a major who worked directly under Washington. They hit it off, and ended up getting married. When the war ended, they went back to his hometown of Setauket. Less than a year later, they disappear with their son Nathaniel. Poof. Nobody knows what happened to them.”

“Wait,” T.J. says, a hand to his forehead. “You think Eliza stepped back through time to the Revolution, met a guy, had a kid, then they all managed to what, step forward in time?”

“The Universe likes to have balance,” Caleb says. “My smarter friends tell me when something like this happens, there’s always a reaction, usually to undo what was first done.”

“Eliza disappeared three years ago,” T.J. says. 

“Yeah, and this goes from 1781 to 1784,” Caleb says. “Three years. Give or take. What’s that tell you?”

“That…she’s gonna show up soon?” T.J. says, hope in his voice. Caleb nods. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed, my friend,” Caleb says. 

“Wait, so, that’s like, his uniform, right?” T.J. says, pointing at the uniform. Caleb nods. “Jesus fucking Christ. How did you find this shit?”

“Estate sale,” Caleb says.


	8. Chapter 8

1784

Caleb left for a few hours to settle some debts and off-load some trinkets he’d gotten on the last trip. Eliza said there was something the three of them needed to talk about when he got back, which Caleb dreaded a little. 

He’s sure he knows what they’re going to say. With another kid, they’ll be running out of room at the house and he won’t be able to stay with them anymore. Caleb could always ask to stay with Abe, but the last time he saw Abe, there was a bit of an altercation and things are probably going to be a bit awkward there. It feels a bit like a betrayal to Anna and Selah to stay in the Dejong Inn, yet he might just consider it if the Tallmadges don’t tell him to get a life.

Caleb finally heads back in the afternoon, his bag lighter. This time, Nathaniel doesn’t come running out to meet him and Caleb assumes he’s down for a nap. Then Caleb recalls that Ben told him last night that Nathaniel was refusing to take naps anymore. Caleb walks up to the front door. 

“Ben? Eliza?” he calls, walking in. There’s no response, no footfalls. Caleb sets his bag down and checks the rest of the house. Everything seems to be here but the Tallmadges. Ben’s watch, Nathaniel’s jacket, Eliza’s cloak, it’s all in the house. Caleb goes to the back door. When he steps outside, he sees the laundry strewn across the grass. His first thought is to go pick it up, so Eliza doesn’t have to. But then he sees the laundry basket that’s been tossed aside like garbage and he thinks the worst. 

.

The town sets up a search party. They comb the nearby woods, they check the neighboring towns. Caleb personally rides up and down Long Island, looking for any sign of the Tallmadges. A letter to Washington and the provisional government gets concerned but unhelpful responses. As far as anyone can tell, the family just disappeared into thin air.

.

Caleb goes back to Setauket with an enormous sense of defeat. When he arrives, Abe informs him that Ben’s will names Caleb as the inheritor, with Nathaniel gone. Caleb almost punches Abe again for telling him this so soon. Instead, Caleb heads to the house again. 

A part of Caleb insists that this is all a big mistake. Any minute now, the Tallmadges will walk in the door and laugh at him for being worried. A growing part of him, though, is telling him that’s not going to happen. He doesn’t really want to listen to that part. 

Caleb walks aimlessly through the house. Nathaniel’s toys are on the floor, like he’d just left them there. Ben’s papers are on the kitchen table. Eliza’s journal is by the armchair. Caleb reads the papers, mostly to see Ben’s handwriting on the page. The words seem to go right over his head. When that gets to be too much, he goes to the armchair. Caleb sits there for a while. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he picks up the journal. He knows it’s dark now, but that’s all he’s got. He lights a lamp and he picks up the journal.

.

He finishes the journal and considers chucking it into a fireplace. All this time…all the times he’d stuck his neck out for them…all the times he’d done whatever they asked, and they’d hid this. Eliza and Ben decided together to not tell him about her…past. The future. Whatever. The point is, they made a conscious decision to keep this from him, and it pissed him off. There wasn’t even an explanation for it, just “Ben and I have come to an agreement that we can’t tell Caleb, because it’s too complicated.” What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did they think he’s stupid? 

Eventually Caleb calms down. He focuses on the idea of this ‘time-slip’ Eliza found, that brought her back to 1781 in the first place. She described it as a momentary flash, followed by suddenly being in a different place and time. The laundry on the lawn lends itself to the idea that the same thing could have happened to the Tallmadges while Caleb was out. But when would they come out? Would it be Eliza’s own time? Would it be some other time? How could he find them?

It dawns on him suddenly that he’s making plans to find them, even after finding out they lied. Is this fair? Probably not. Is he going to do his damnedest anyway? Yes. Because this is utterly typical of Caleb Brewster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will eventually find out why Caleb punched Abe. And how the Tallmadges disappear exactly. All will be answered, I promise


	9. Chapter 9

2012

Caleb showed T.J. the journal to keep him from trying to kill himself again. He didn’t expect T.J. to suddenly become obsessed with the idea of finding evidence of Eliza’s presence in the time period. Maybe he should have.

*

Caleb’s coming off a hunt in a high school of all places when he gets a mildly frantic message from T.J. All it says is ‘come to the AH museum!!!!’ and Caleb can only assume it’s because the kid’s in real peril.

He finds T.J. in the museum’s atrium. Without a word, T.J. grabs Caleb’s hand and drags him to the stairs.

“What the hell’s going on?” Caleb says as they head up. 

“I found something you need to see,” T.J. says.

“Is it demon-related?” Caleb asks in an undertone. T.J. shakes his head. “Then why the hell did you text me?”

“Because it’s important,” T.J. says. They get to the second floor and T.J. drags Caleb to an exhibit. Caleb considers hitting the kid until he sees what exhibit it is. 

“Tommy Boy, you’d better have a good reason for this,” Caleb says, trying not to growl. He can’t stand seeing the faces of people he knew and the people he didn’t, the ones who didn’t risk their lives fighting and are remembered more than the ones that did. 

“I do, I do. Come on.” T.J. goes over to the biggest portrait in the room, a life-size painting of Washington. Someone’s standing in front of it, but they move as T.J. and Caleb approach. It’s then Caleb sees the boy on Washington’s hip. He knows that boy.

“Nathaniel George Tallmadge,” T.J. says proudly. “I found it online, when I was googling this stuff. Apparently Washington acted like this kid was his own grandson or something. He wrote letters to Eliza all the time asking about Nathaniel. The artist happened to be sketching when the Tallmadges were visiting and he asked if Washington wanted Nathaniel in the painting and Washington was like, hell yeah.” T.J. laughs. Caleb very much doubts that Washington said that exactly, but he believes Washington agreed to the painter’s request. 

“You’ve been googling this?” Caleb says. 

“Yeah, yeah, I wanted to know, like, how Eliza lived and stuff,” T.J. says. “Did you know she used my name? She went by Thomas Hammond during the war.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” Caleb says, a little disturbed. If T.J.’s been googling the Tallmadges, he’s bound to have run into Caleb’s name at least once.

“That’s so cool,” T.J. says, beaming. “Come on, there’s more.”

“More?” Caleb says. T.J. grabs him again and brings him to the wall to the right of the portrait. There’s a glass case not unlike the ones in Caleb’s vault, though larger. It holds several papers the size of a printer page. There’s three pencil drawings and a silhouette. The plaque bears the title ‘The Culper Ring.’

“This was his spy ring,” T.J. says. His voice is as excited as Caleb’s mind is full of dread. “Ben Tallmadge ran the Culper Ring. Look, there’s a picture, right here, drawn by a soldier at West Point. Ben’s in the center, there, holding the stupid hat-” God, Caleb’s always hated that hat, the ridiculous dragoon hat. There it is, in penciled eternity, tucked under Ben’s arm. “-and there’s Eliza on his left, look, she’s pregnant with Nathaniel-” Very pregnant, Caleb can see, the mystery artist careful to include that detail. He can only imagine how Eliza would like that. “-isn’t that awesome? Someone drew them.”

“Yeah, that’s really cool,” Caleb says. He’d never known anyone at West Point could draw, let alone was drawing the other people there. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see more of Ben and Eliza. But seeing them in a museum, standing next to the third person in the picture, is a bit much.

“You’re not as excited as I am,” T.J. says. “Is it because of him?” He points to the third person. Caleb doesn’t know how to respond. “Caleb Brewster?”

“Err,” Caleb answers, staring at his own likeness. 

“It’s okay, man, I figured it out,” T.J. says. Caleb looks at him. T.J. isn’t angry; he’s just watching Caleb with a half-smile. 

“You did, did you?” Caleb asks. 

“Yeah,” T.J. says. “You came first.” He nudges Caleb in the arm. Caleb blinks. “You figured out what happened and you found a timeslip to get your way here. You just came through before they did.”

“…yes,” Caleb says. “Yes. Good on you for figuring that out, man, how long did that take you?”

“A couple days,” T.J. says. “It was pretty weird, seeing your name in the Culper Ring stuff, but then I saw this stuff and I figured it out.”

“Well, Tommy Boy, you’re smarter than half the people I work with,” Caleb says, trying not to look relieved. “Eliza’s gonna be proud of you.”

“You think so?” T.J. says. Caleb claps him on the arm. 

“Oh, yeah. I think she’s gonna be very proud of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T.J. and Caleb's friendship was rather unexpected when I wrote this, but now it's really important to me. Also George Washington does sort of appoint himself Nathaniel's grandfather, which is fun.


	10. Chapter 10

1785

Caleb travels the whole globe, looking for someone who can help him get to Ben and Eliza. Finally, he ends up back in Bermuda.

“Caleb Brewster!” a voice calls while he’s wandering through the port. Caleb turns and sees the woman who’d given him the medicines for Eliza. She storms up to him and grabs his arm.

“What the fuck do you want?” Caleb demands, ripping his arm away. 

“I want you to see your family again,” she replies.

“My family is dead,” Caleb says shortly.

“The Tallmadges are not,” she says. “They’re going to need you, Caleb Brewster, and you need them.” Caleb stares at her. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks. 

“I’m Diomara De La Vega, and I’m going to help you see your family again,” she says. “Come along.” She takes him by the arm again. Caleb doesn’t stop her this time.

.

Diomara leads Caleb back to her place, which looks pretty much like her place in 2012 but darker, and sits him in a corner.

“How do you know about the Tallmadges?” Caleb asks first. “How’d you know to give me those bottles?”

“I’m a scryer,” Diomara says. “I use this to see the future, the past, and the present.” She pulls out a large, flat bowl, and sets it on the table in front of Caleb. She picks up a bottle off a shelf. It’s much fancier than the ones she gave Caleb, and the liquid is an unearthly silver. Diomara pours a few centimeters into the bowl. 

“What is that?” Caleb says. 

“Scrying potion. It’s not easy to make, so you’d best appreciate me showing you this,” Diomara answers, setting the bottle down beside the bowl. She stirs the potion with a finger. Caleb starts to see shapes in the liquid. 

“The fuck…” A profile he knows appears in the liquid. It’s Ben’s face, a strange mask over his mouth and nose, and his eyes closed. His hair is loose around his face and he looks pale.

“What’s wrong with him?” Caleb says. The words come out hoarse. “What is that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Diomara answers. “But I can tell you it’s not going to happen for some time.”

“Two hundred something years,” Caleb supplies, watching the liquid. The image changes to Eliza, walking up and down a hallway that’s far whiter and smoother than anything Caleb’s ever seen, chewing on her finger and looking worried.

“Yes,” Diomara says. Caleb looks up at her.

“Can you get me there?” he says. “I’ve been looking all over for a timeslip thing, gone every place Eliza’s been-”

“That’s not going to work,” Diomara interrupts. “The Universe doesn’t work randomly. The timeslips happen because someone caused that to happen, someone with a lot of power. I do not have that kind of power.”

“Then how the fuck are you supposed to help me?” Caleb replies, getting testy.

“I’m going to make sure you’re still here when they come out,” Diomara says. “I need you, you need me.”

“You need me?” Caleb says doubtfully. “What do you need me for?”

“You know how to fight,” Diomara says. “I need protection.” The image changes again, this time to a horrific face with no eyes and too many teeth. Caleb nearly jumps out of his skin. “That’s a demon. They feed on human souls, especially those who can use or have been affected by magic. They want to eat me, and I don’t particularly want to be eaten. So, you protect me, and I’ll keep you alive for the next two hundred years.” Caleb stares at her for a minute before answering. Diomara stares back. 

“Will I get old?” Caleb says finally. 

“Only mentally,” Diomara says.

“I won’t go senile, will I?”

“No. Senile and old isn’t very protective,” Diomara says. 

“Will I fall down dead after I see them again? This isn’t some kind of Faustian bargain, is it?” Caleb says. 

“You will live as long as you choose,” Diomara says. “But you have to protect me the rest of your life.” Caleb stands up.

“I’ll do anything but hurt them,” he says. “If it comes down to a choice between you and them, I’ll pick them every time.”

“Understood,” Diomara says. “But when I die, you die.” Caleb nods. 

“What do we have to do?”


	11. Chapter 11

2012

Caleb knows Ben is going to get sick when he gets to this time. He saw the oxygen mask on Ben’s face back in Diomara’s Bermuda home (though it took him most of the two centuries to figure out what the hell that was), and Diomara handed him the sachet and a bottle of medicine. There’s also the very scientific point that Ben’s body has had no exposure to the infectious diseases of 2012 other than what Eliza could have brought with her. What Caleb doesn’t know is how sick, or when Ben is going to appear and get sick. He can’t even be sure where Ben and Eliza and Nathaniel will show up. Diomara is maddeningly unhelpful on this front, saying it’ll happen when it happens.

To prepare for the eventual reappearance, Caleb put alerts on Eliza’s name, both maiden and married. He has alerts on any John Does or Jane Does matching Ben and Eliza’s descriptions, and alerts on young children matching Nathaniel’s description. If any law enforcement or hospital staff make reports on these things, Caleb’s SHIELD phone gets a buzz. He’d taken over the case after the first year of Eliza being missing, no one making much of a fuss. The family didn’t seem to notice when he did. T.J.’s the only one who’s ever talked to him about it. 

Caleb’s as ready as he can be, yet it doesn’t feel like enough. There’s so much he doesn’t know, so much he can’t know, and it’s driving him up the wall.

*

It’s a particularly freezing day in February when Caleb gets another alert through his phone. He’s gotten more than a few lately, and most have been description matches that fell through, but he pulls his car over and checks his phone anyway. 

'Young woman claiming to be Elizabeth Martha Hammond in Herndon, VA. Accompanied by a young man, name Benjamin Tallmadge, and a toddler, name Nathaniel Tallmadge. Woman matches description of E Hammond. Man early thirties, blond, blue eyes, 6’1”. Boy 18 months to two years old, brown hair, hazel eyes. All dressed in period clothing from Revolutionary Era. Preliminary print analysis confirms Hammond’s identity, DNA tests pending.'

“Jesus Christ,” Caleb mutters. He sends an email to the police station telling them he’s coming and shoves the phone in the cupholder. Caleb pulls the car back onto the road, speeding off towards the highway.

*

The Herndon PD is a small place. Caleb parks in the tiny parking lot and heads inside. The desk clerk looks up at his approach.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Special Agent Caleb Brewster,” Caleb says. He takes the badge from his pocket and tosses it to the clerk. “I’m here to see Elizabeth Hammond and Ben Tallmadge. Heard they were here.”

“I’ll check with the chief,” the clerk says. He gives the badge back and picks up the desk phone. Caleb resists the urge to throttle the guy. He knows the clerk is just doing his job, but really?

“Sir, there’s a Special Agent Brewster here for the Hammond girl,” the clerk says. He pauses. “Yes, sir, I saw his badge. Yes, sir. I’ll tell him, sir.” The clerk puts the phone down and looks back up at Caleb. 

“Well?” Caleb says.

“The Chief said to direct you to the hospital,” the clerk says. “Mr. Tallmadge and his son got very sick this morning and were taken to the ER.” 

“Shit,” Caleb says. “Motherfucking shit. All right, give me the directions, and if there’s a shortcut, give me that too.” He should have known. He should have fucking known.

*

It takes ten minutes for Caleb to get to the Reston Hospital Center. It takes another ten to get the staff to get him where he needs to be. But finally, Caleb gets to the floor where they’re keeping Ben and Nathaniel. He has the room number in his hand. Caleb pushes the door open. 

There’s two beds in the room, one adult size and the other half the size. Caleb knows both of the occupants, and he knows the woman in between.

“Eliza,” Caleb says. She looks up and sees him. 

“Caleb?” Eliza says. She stands up as he comes over. “Oh my God, Caleb, how are you here?” 

“It’s a long story,” Caleb says. “But I’m here.” He holds out a hand. Eliza looks at it, then looks back up at his face.

“What do you call Nathaniel?” Eliza says. “What’s your nickname for him?”

“He’s my little bug,” Caleb answers. Eliza covers her mouth.

“Oh, God, Caleb.” She presses herself against him. Caleb holds Eliza close, taking in the essence of her. Then he looks at the two boys behind her. 

“They don’t have the antibodies to fight off infections,” Eliza says into his shoulder. “Nathaniel has some, but not the ones for the cold he and Ben got.”

“They’re gonna be fine,” Caleb replies. He watches the rise and fall of their chests. Ben’s is more of a struggle than Nathaniel’s, his face not quite as flushed. “It’s gonna be just fine, Liza Love, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of Caleb's narrative. The next part will be from Eliza's POV and there will be a third part from Ben's POV. Please let me know if you guys are enjoying this. I'll keep posting, but I love feedback. Thanks for sticking with me this long!


End file.
